


Midterm Season

by d0nquix0te



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0nquix0te/pseuds/d0nquix0te
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College takes up most of Stiles and Lydia's time. Cora has too much time to spare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midterm Season

When Cora gets home from her afternoon shift, the apartment is dark. The only indication that she isn’t the only one home is the sound of Stiles, breath and heartbeat quick even though by the sound of his typing, he’s sitting still. His heart is always a little quicker than Lydia’s. Cora follows the sounds until she’s in the doorway of their extra bedroom, turned into a haphazard office. 

“What thrilling paper are you writing today?” she asks as she drops down into the extra chair. The wheels on the bottom of it squeak obnoxiously as she rolls towards Stiles, catching a glimpse of his word document. 

Stiles glances over his shoulder at her, barely acknowledging her before turning back in the direction of the laptop screen. “Uh, Malaysian folktales. Say Merong Mahawangsa ten times fast.”

“I don’t think I could even say it once. How many pages?”

“Six. Nearly done page three.”

“Ugh.”

“You can say that again.”

“Ugh.”

“Hilarious as always, Cora, light of my life.”

Cora sighs loudly and Stiles begins to type again, long fingers moving impossibly fast, from Cora’s perspective. She doesn’t use the computer very often. Stiles always types like he’s defusing a bomb with only five minutes left on the timer. Lydia types quickly, but carefully, like she’s thinking it through on the spot. She doesn’t spend nearly the same amount of time editing and groaning about typos as Stiles does. 

After a few minutes of listening to him mumble to himself and flip rapidly through the pages of a textbook in between bursts of typing, Cora gets up and walks out into the hallway. Stiles doesn’t call after her and she doesn’t expect him to. 

She makes her way into the bedroom and changes out of her work uniform, letting her hair out of its tight bun. She’s tired from work, but more restless than sleepy so she wanders into the kitchen and starts looking for something easy to cook. Stiles is the best cook out of the three of them but he does it the least often. Lydia is still much better than Cora, but Cora is the one with the most free time. 

All three of their schedules are stuck to the fridge with magnets shaped like wolves. Lydia’s is one solid chunk of neat, colour-coded blocks, Stiles’ isn’t much more forgiving, and Cora’s is simple, more empty space than filled. Frowning grumpily, she opens the fridge to take a peek at what they have.

She grimaces at the smell of the milk without even needing to open the carton. “The milk’s gone bad!” she yells to Stiles. 

“You don’t like milk!” Stiles answers, yelling too even though Cora doesn’t need the extra volume. 

“I know!” Cora hollers back as she lets the door of the fridge swing shut again. “But that doesn’t stop it from being disgusting in my presence!” She slumps against the counter and reaches into the drawer where they keep the takeout menu pamphlets, giving up on her quest for alternatives. She’s flipping through their choices when Stiles finally yells back. 

“Rinse it down the drain then!”

She hadn’t actually expected him to reply after the first couple minutes of silence. “That conversation was so five minutes ago!”

And this time, he doesn’t reply at all. 

Cora orders two pizzas, because she prefers meat only but Lydia likes it with all the vegetables. Stiles doesn’t care either way and will eat whichever they give him. 

On the way to the front door again, Cora passes by the office. “Ordered pizza. Going to meet the delivery person downstairs.”

Stiles says, “’kay,” without looking up.

Cora takes the stairs down all eight flights because it keeps her occupied longer than a twenty second elevator ride would. She arrives at the front door way sooner than it’ll take for the pizza delivery to show up but that’s okay with her. She sits under the awning outside, perched on the side railing and swinging her legs in and out underneath it as she watches the busy traffic go by. 

A car covered in pizza place logos drives up and Cora nods to the guy who steps out a moment later. He carries the pizzas over and hands them to her. 

“Having a party?” he asks conversationally as she gives him the money.

She shakes her head. “Not unless your definition of party is two seniors going crazy during midterm season.”

The guy groans empathetically. “Sucks, right? Good luck.”

Cora snorts. “I’ll pass the sentiment on.” She turns away and goes back inside before the pizza guy responds. This time she takes the elevator back up to the apartment. 

Stiles makes no comment upon her return but she hadn’t been holding her breath for one anyway. She puts a couple slices of pizza on a plate for him, one piece from both boxes, and takes it into the office. 

“You’re the best,” he tells her as she sets it down on the desk beside him. “C’mere.”

He pulls away from the computer and takes her hand, pulling her in so he can give her a chaste but heartfelt kiss. 

The warmth of his lips and the feeling of his pulse against her wrist are gone too fast. She wants to grab onto him, pull him away from the desk and into her arms so they can kiss in earnest but she knows he’s busy. It’s just that he’s always busy, and she always isn’t, and Lydia spends more time on campus than she spends in the apartment. 

“You’re welcome,” Cora forces herself to say, chest feeling tight as she backs away and lets Stiles go back to work. She knows it isn’t fair to be annoyed or disappointed when both Stiles and Lydia would love to be less busy than they are. They both enjoy their programs but she knows it tires them out. 

After getting some pizza for herself, Cora moves into the bedroom and fishes her cellphone out of the pocket in her work pants. As she flops backwards onto their huge bed, she opens up a text and starts typing away. 

**college is stupid**

It only takes Isaac a couple of minutes to get back to her. 

_I know :( allisons stressed and we have no idea how to help_

**i can smell the adderall on stiles. i hate when he smells like this.**

_It wont be forever, cora. You all made it this far._

**yeah. i just miss actually being WITH them u know?**

They text back and forth, catching up with each other and complaining about how there aren’t enough hours in the day to spend time with the people they care about, until Cora hears Lydia walking up to the apartment door, keys jingling as she lifts them to the lock. 

Cora had gotten used to the sound of high heels and a purposeful gait, back before Lydia had gotten busier with her studies. Now she wears flats and always sounds laden down by thirty pounds of books, no matter where she’s going or where she’s coming from. 

Cora bounces up from the bed and meets Lydia at the door. “A welcome party, how sweet,” Lydia jokes as she comes inside. 

“Missed you,” Cora grumbles. She grabs the strap of Lydia’s bag and Lydia lets her take it off her shoulder. The weight of Lydia’s textbooks is nothing to her and carrying them makes Cora feel like they’re teenagers in a high school romance movie, flirting constantly and exchanging cute gestures. 

“Missed you too,” Lydia replies with a tired smile. “I’m so glad to be home finally. How’s Stiles doing?”

They walk down the hall together and Cora puts Lydia’s bag down inside the office door. “See for yourself,” she says, nodding at Stiles still at work. “You’ll be fighting for desk space in no time.”

Stiles spins around in his chair and smiles up at the both of them, cracking his stiff knuckles and rolling his shoulders back. “Think I’m done for tonight, actually.”

“And I was done about an hour ago,” Lydia remarks. “Late night lectures are for philosophy students, I’m not cut out for this.”

“Pretty sure you’re cut out for anything,” Stiles says, smirking. 

As moody as she’s been feeling all night, Cora still chuckles. The two of them have worn her down over the last few years and she can’t keep up the grumpy and annoyed face for long, not anymore. It’s a weakness she hadn’t invited in and now here she is, feeling like a sad puppy vying for attention. 

Lydia rolls her eyes and shrugs out of her cardigan. “Come on, both of you. We’re spending the rest of the night together.”

Cora is glad neither of them can hear as well as she can because then they would know how her pulse quickens at the suggestion. “Really?” she asks, trying to keep her tone flat. “No serious business reports due by midnight?”

“Midnight tomorrow,” Stiles says, laughing lightly. He gets up and offers them both one of his arms. 

Even on the nights when one or both of them call it quits early, they use the time to catch up on sleep. Lydia is responsible about getting a healthy amount of sleep and Stiles will pass out right at his desk once he’s given in, but tonight all three of them climb into bed together. It feels like it’s been weeks since they had the opportunity to do so. 

Cora’s abandoned phone is still lying on the blankets and she picks it up just long enough to send Isaac a text telling him she’s finally getting some time with both Stiles and Lydia, even if they’re only awake for a couple more hours. When she looks back up, tossing her phone onto a pile of clothes on the floor, Stiles and Lydia are settling back against the pillows with enough space between them for Cora to squeeze in. 

Lydia holds her hand out and Cora takes it, letting herself be pulled in like Stiles had done to her earlier in the office. Even with the odds staked against them, they both still reach out for her when they can. 

Once Cora is lying between them, Stiles and Lydia wrap warm arms around her. 

“You know we appreciate how much you put up with us, right?” Stiles says, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

His hair tickles her cheek when she nods in response. 

Lydia continues, “We’re sorry for getting caught up with course work. Don’t forget you’re more important than anything.”

Cora makes an awkward noise in the back of her throat. She’s never been good at emotional conversations or accepting the personal things the two of them say to her. Stiles loves like it’s second nature to him and Lydia is fierce in her loyalty and passion. Cora is never sure how to keep pace with either of them, when it comes to moments like these. 

Lydia kisses her, sweet and slow. Cora’s eyes flutter shut as she relaxes into it and she can feel Stiles’ thumb brushing back and forth along her hipbone, gentle and measured. She shivers and Stiles misinterprets it as a shiver from the cold, so he pulls the blankets up higher around them. The added warmth is nice anyway. 

Once Lydia pulls away from the kiss, Stiles replaces her, kissing Cora the way she had desperately wanted to kiss him before. Either he’s become a mind reader or the two of them just know her better than anyone has ever known her. Even in a world of werewolves, banshees, and druid sparks, Cora has a feeling the latter is more likely. 

“Love you,” she tells them both, voice quiet even though she’s said those words a handful of times now. 

On either side of her, Stiles and Lydia smile. “Love you,” Stiles says at the same time as Lydia says, “We love you, too.”

They cuddle and talk in low tones for the rest of the night, enjoying each other’s company in the time that they have. As tired as Stiles and Lydia must be, Cora is still the first one to lose the battle with sleepiness.

She’s certain they both planned it that way.


End file.
